"There are laws that supercede your bond," Simones declared. "There are the laws of the Emperor and God which no bond can overrule." He faced Niklos squarely. "There are also laws that reward true service to the Emperor and God by the ending of bonds. It is something to consider."
"It is," Niklos agreed somberly. "Let me understand you; if I give information on my mistress before an inquiry is "made into her actions by the Censor, that will be a factor in what treatment I, as her bondsman, receive, if judgment goes against her."
"In part, yes," Simones said, his face set in a ferocious smile.
"And, of course, if I make reports, it might increase the chance of the inquiry being undertaken at all," Niklos went on in a conversational way. "So if the judgment went in her favor, I would be the one blamed for bringing false testimony against my mistress and abjuring the terms of my bond."
Simones came close to snarling. "It isn't the way it is done here."
"Isn't it?" Niklos asked. "Well, you will have to forgive me if I require a little time to think this over. I have already spoken with a few of the Censor's officers, and your reminder, while well-meant, comes at a time that fills me with doubt." He rose abruptly. "I don't know why so many of you want to discredit my mistress, but you will not have my help in doing it."
"Consider the alternatives before you make such a rash decision," Simones warned him. "You have as much to lose as she does, and for a man of your position, the methods we use might be more than you want to endure."
Niklos' eyes were distant as he regarded Simones. "I have listened to men like you before, Simones. You cannot bear it that Olivia has her own life and her own ways. You refuse to let her be. Well, though I am only a bondsman and nothing more than her majordomo, I will not abandon her, especially to jackals like you and the men you serve." He deliberately reached down and tipped over his cup which was almost full. The contents ran over the bench and splattered onto the pavement.
"You're an arrogant fool," spat Simones.
"A thing I have learned from you," Niklos said sweetly. "I have listened to all your advice, and now I will give you some of mine: leave Atta Olivia Clemens alone. She harms no one. She is living within your laws. She has no ambition to seek power here. If you force her to change, you will regret it."
"Will I?" Simones growled. "You know nothing of it."
"And if you persist in these attempts to suborn me, I will inform not only my mistress, but I will request that she inform yours. I do not think that Antonina would welcome so deceitful a slave in her household." He turned on his heel and strode away into the market, leaving Simones to curse him.
By the time he reached Olivia's house, Niklos was no longer satisfied that he had managed his meeting with Simones as well as he had thought he had at first. He entered his quarters in a thoughtful mood which darkened steadily with the day, so that by nightfall, he was filled with melancholy foreboding.
It was after most of the household had retired that Niklos sought out Olivia in her study where she was passing the night reading.
"You look terrible," she said as he entered the room, and her words were only half in jest.
"I'm not surprised," he said, sitting down across from her. "I fear I have done you poor service this afternoon."
"Impossible," she said affectionately as she set the old scroll she had opened aside. "What's troubling you?"
"Simones, Antonina's eunuch," he said, the words tasting spoiled in his mouth.
Olivia waited, her hazel eyes on his. She said nothing, but her attention was apparent in every line and angle of her body. Her silence was patient and unawkward, for she and Niklos had too many years together for her to need to urge him; he would speak in his own time.
Finally the story came out, a bit disjointed and with occasional digressions, but recounted accurately and without too much apprehension coloring the tale.
"The Censor and now Simones. What do you make of it?" Olivia asked when Niklos was finished.
"I don't know, but none of it pleases me." He folded his arms, sighing heavily. "I assume that if they are attempting to enlist my aid against you that there are other spies in the household."
"That's likely; we expected it," she said serenely.
"I don't like it," he said.
"Nor do I."
He lunged to his feet and began to pace. "What are we going to do?"
"What can we do? We will have to wait and find out why we are suspect, and of what, and by whom." She stared up at the ceiling. "It may be nothing more than Belisarius. Now that he has been recalled and stripped of command, there are vultures waiting to pick over his carcass. If they are seeking more ways to discredit him, they will have to find someone other than me to aid them."
"And if it isn't Belisarius?" asked Niklos.
"For the time, we will have to assume that it is," Olivia decided. "I am Drosos' lover, Drosos is Belisarius' Captain; I provided housing for Belisarius in Roma and I am here under his sponsorship. That is more than reason enough for the Court Censor. I am a Roman widow. Spying on me is a simple thing and the risks are minimal."
"Then you want me to do nothing." Niklos was growing angry. "What happens if the Court Censor decides to imprison me? What then? How do I account for what I am? And what if he imprisons you?" This last question was flung out with passion, but as soon as it was spoken, he changed, coming toward her with sympathy in his face. "By the Horses of Poseidon," he said contritely. "I didn't intend—"
Olivia had turned her face away, but now she looked at him and there was grief in her eyes. "It's all right, Niklos. You're right, I suppose. And if I am wrong, if I underestimate the risks, then you and I have a great deal to lose, and it is not merely our lives. We've already lost those once." This last was an unsuccessful joke. "Please, at least chuckle for me, or I will become as morose as you are."
"I'm… I'm sorry, Olivia. I can't." He looked down at her. "There are times I despair."
"And I." She got up and came to his side. "Niklos, if you think we must take greater precautions, then I will abide by your decision. You may be wiser than I about this. I dislike this place, its reek of holiness and condescension so much that I might misjudge our danger by my very dislike." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "That time in Caralis, when the ship had been blown off course."
"I remember." Now there was a hint of amusement in his response.
"I overlooked the most obvious danger because I was so utterly miserable and furious. This might be the same thing, and if it is, it would be unforgivable of me to ignore it. Only fools and cowards make the same error twice."
"Since you're neither of those, then—" He put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. "I think what we need most is our own spy in the ranks; what do you say?"
She sagged against him and then straightened. "I would like to say that I leave it up to you, but that's no answer. Very well. I agree, as little as I want to. One of the slaves will have to be taken into our confidence, at least to some degree, and we will have to find some means to establish the slave's reliability." She moved away from him. "It's all so petty, when you think of it."
"Whether it is or not, it could cost more than either of us wants to pay," Niklos reminded her.
"True." She fell into a musing silence. "Do you have any recommendations about a slave?"
"No; do you?" He had learned long ago to trust her sense about people, for her impressions were always more accurate than his. "Tell me."
She did not answer at once, and when she did, her tone was slightly remote. "That Eastern woman, I think. Zejhil is her name. The one who comes from Vagarshapat, if that's the place I think it is."
Niklos regarded her with interest. "Why her? The rest of the slaves treat her oddly. They don't trust her."
"That's why, in part," Olivia said. "She will be under less suspicion because she is already thought strange." She looked at him and shook her head. "You don't really understand, do you?"
"No," he admitted. "But I know that you do, and that's sufficient."
"I'm grateful for your confidence," she said lightly. "I will want to speak to her in the morning. See that she is sent to me before the first meal. I don't want the summons to start gossip."
Niklos was deeply relieved. The worry had not left him, but he no longer felt that he and Olivia were floundering, at the mercy of the shifting Imperial tides that had claimed so many others. "Very well, I'll see that she is sent to you. For what purpose?"
"Oh, to inspect my clothes. Something must need mending." She reached down and picked up the scroll. "I was hoping that we might have respite here, but I was wrong."
"Olivia—" Niklos began.